Our relationship was always so unpredictable. One minute we were madly in love and happy, the next, we couldn’t stand the sight of each other. He used to say it was because we “loved hard,” but toward the end of the relationship I knew it was really more of a sign we weren’t supposed to be together.
I think we stayed together as long as we did because we were comfortable. I knew his family; his mom loved me; our friends even got along. On the outside, it was a good fit, but inside the relationship I never felt like I was with the right guy. Finally, I called things off, but he didn’t take it well. He asked me to promise that we stay friends and keep in touch. Given our history, I didn’t think that was too much to ask. So, I agreed to keep things friendly between us.
It worked out okay for a while. He lived his life and I lived mine. We talked on the phone every few weeks and met up for a casual lunch occasionally. I thought he was moving on just fine. Then I met my husband, and I told him that I was dating a guy I thought could be “the one.” He lost it. He kept trying to tell me I was moving too fast and started calling and emailing me more than he ever had since our breakup. The stranger he behaved, the more I knew that I had to distance myself from him in order to be happy in my new relationship. It got so bad that I had to start ignoring him altogether.
My husband and I dated for about two years and he asked me to marry him. I was so happy. I didn’t want my ex to find out, but of course the news got to him somehow. Even though I’d stopped taking his calls or responding to his emails, he still reached out all the time. It was sort of creepy, but I figured he was just having a tough time moving on and it would eventually pass. Boy was a I wrong. I asked my friends not to reveal any wedding details to him, but somehow he caught word.
The morning of my wedding, I woke up to find eight missed calls from my ex. I ignored them and went on with the day. On my way down the aisle, I saw him sitting in the back of the church looking sad and crazy. It ruined the moment for me. I couldn’t believe he was there. He didn’t interrupt the ceremony, but I still found it hard to focus because I was worried about what he might say or do. My father asked him to leave and he did, but he came back midway through the reception, drunk and belligerent. He tried to start a fight with my husband but thankfully he kept his cool and security escorted him out. I was mortified and it really put a damper on our wedding day. Before we went on our honeymoon I went to the precinct to request a restraining order against him. I guess sometimes you really aren’t “better off as friends.” The past belongs in the past.
Do you have an "It Happened to Me" tale to share? (It will be anonymous, we promise!) Email it to us now!